Dashboard Confessional "Hell On The Throat" |
A line of strands to mark the trail No one said it would be easy I must admit I thought that risk was better waged in younger seasons And all these years in the cold play hell on the throat Until everything I say burns like cinders But it's hard to belong to a girl or a song In the crease of a strangling winter It's strange to be lost Stranger still to be lone on the strings of a twisting line Along the way the turns are sharp No one said they would be easy I must admit I thought the trip was better made in younger seasons But all these years in pursuit made a man of a fool Till every word I say is on waver Well it's hard to belong To a girl or a song In the case of a selfish believer It's strange to be lost Stranger still to belong on the strings in a twisting line Well it's hard to belong To a girl or a song In the case of a selfish believer It's strange to be lost Stranger still to belong on the strings in a twisting line And when the path I have made From the grass to the grave I will love you still And when the sand turns to glass And all that's left is the past I will love you still Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |